


In which Gokudera tells Doc Brown to go fuck himself

by pekori



Series: Anonymous Kink Meme Fills (Reborn!) [7]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Horny Teenagers, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pekori/pseuds/pekori
Summary: Gokudera finds himself back in the past, and the first person he calls is Yamamoto, but he isn't sure why.
Relationships: Gokudera Hayato/Yamamoto Takeshi
Series: Anonymous Kink Meme Fills (Reborn!) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788805
Kudos: 24





	In which Gokudera tells Doc Brown to go fuck himself

**Author's Note:**

> **Original prompt:** TYL 59 x 80
> 
> Yamamoto sitting on TYL Gokudera's lap

The first thing Gokudera did when he was unexpectedly sent back to his past was to seek out his old apartment complex. He barely remembered where it was, but found it after a bit of trial and error, using Tsuna's old house as bearings. The next thing he did was feel through every pocket for change, to make a phone call.

A little over an hour later, Gokudera, fingers fidgeting endlessly for a cigarette, was sitting beside a much-younger-than-he-remembered-him-looking Yamamoto.

"Hahaha! Even ten years later we're still playing that Mafia game? Don't you guys get–"

"For the last _time_ , idiot, this isn't a _game_." Gokudera pinched the bridge of his nose, refraining—only just—from giving Yamamoto a hard lesson to prove to him just how little fun any of them were having, but didn't want to screw up the space-time continuum any more than he had to today. "Just remember what I've told you here, okay?"

Yamamoto nodded, but didn't look at Gokudera when he did it, leaving the latter to sigh in frustrated defeat. "You know, this is the first time I've ever been to your apartment," he said, and it was then that Gokudera realized he wasn't being inattentive, just distracted.

There was little decor to speak of, but even now it didn't bother Gokudera. He had never learned to value knickknacks and other useless things one couldn't take with them while running—kitschy things that made a house a "home." He had no real use for bulky furniture because it was only ever him, alone. He could usually get by with a suitcase, and that suited him fine. However, Tsuna's mother had been kind enough to give him a proper bed, made even better by the fact that it used to be Tsuna's. It was a little too small and the paint on the framework was chipping, but even all these years later...

"...together sometime to pick a few things up. What do you think?"

"Think about what?"

Yamamoto laughed. "Weren't you listening?"

"Were you talking?"

"Hahaha, you really haven't changed much at all, have you, Gokudera?"

Gokudera forced half a smile, looking over the boy in front of him. Yamamoto had changed so much, he was practically a shadow of this one before him now. This younger version was refreshing, but the thought was a little sad. No...more than a little.

"Hey, Ya-Yamamoto." The boy turned to him, still smiling, but with eyes bright, crinkling at the corners. "There's something else I should tell you, especially since I don't know how long I'm going to be here this way." Yamamoto went to talk, but Gokudera raised his hand. "Just let me finish." Once the boy looked like he would be able to stay quiet for half a minute, Gokudera took in a deep breath. "In the future...you're real shit at kissing."

Yamamoto froze, then seemed to ponder the comment for a moment. "Well, I guess that makes sense. I mean, I haven't even had my first kiss, yet, and it's not like I can practice after school in a club or anything, hahaha."

He really was so much different.

Gokudera wasn't sure why he'd even mentioned something so trivial, or why he'd wanted so badly to open this floodgate. Maybe it was just an easy way to distract himself from all of the nostalgia, all of the hurting. Whatever it was, he leaned toward him, pressing unabashed lips to Yamamoto's, cradling his neck and the back of his head when he initially jerked in reaction. It was all very gentle, but very deliberate, and Yamamoto didn't pull away first.

Letting his hand fall back into his lap, Gokudera was suddenly mortified that he'd practically molested the boy. Yamamoto gave no notice though, fingers curling into the lapel of Gokudera's jacket as he tried to tug him closer, to pull him in for another. Gokudera gave a grunt of resistance and shame and Yamamoto simply said, "How am I ever going to practice for you without a partner?"

It was Yamamoto who parted his lips first and Yamamoto whose curious tongue first tasted Gokudera's. It was also his hand who first found the buttons on Gokudera's jacket, guided arms from sleeves, then began working on the buttons of his shirt and the knot of his tie.

When they finally broke apart, Gokudera was the only one panting. His jacket had been tossed aside and his shirt was still on, but flung open. He rested back on his hands and ignored how lewd he must look. "Can I tell you something about the past?" Yamamoto said, and Gokudera gave him wary attention. The boy dropped his voice, crawling closer and into Gokudera's lap, before saying, "I've been waiting for this."

Gokudera let out a hoarse, nervous laugh. "For this? For me to come back from some mysterious future?"

Then Yamamoto laughed, quiet and smiling, and shook his head. "Not exactly. But for you all the same."

Gokudera made a mental note to ask him about this later—the future him—to see exactly how long he'd been waiting for. For now, though, this Yamamoto's lips were back on his, each pair moving together naturally, like they always did. Gokudera always knew it was him who was shit at kissing. He hoped absently that the boy wouldn't mind once his lips actually met ones their own age.

Yamamoto's fingers were surprisingly nimble at working Gokudera's belt apart, and his pants were already open before Gokudera came back from his thoughts to notice. "What the hell are you doing? No, no, no–"

"Helping."

Gokudera's first thought was to wonder why Yamamoto's circulation had all but disappeared as he aged because this boy's hands were really quite warm. His second thought was that he was getting jerked off by a fifteen-year-old and whether or not they were dating in this continuum or that, something about it probably wasn't quite right. His only other thought was that, ultimately, it felt so fucking nice to let go and forget that he just couldn't care.

When Yamamoto realized Gokudera wasn't going to put up any real resistance, he stood to shimmy out of his own pants. Gokudera took the opportunity to watch, and Yamamoto the opportunity to show off, laughing. For him, this was probably no different than changing after practice, and Gokudera felt an awkward flare of jealousy.

"Up," Yamamoto said, half-clothed, reaching for the waist of Gokudera's pants. The man obliged and Yamamoto made a neat pile of both pairs and their underwear on the floor. "Oh, yeah," he said, just shy of resuming his seat on Gokudera's lap. As he checked the pockets of his jeans, the man watched him with interest, until he finally procured his wallet, and then a small square from it.

"...For someone who just had his first kiss a few minutes ago, you're awfully prepared."

"They told us in health class–"

"They also told us keeping it in a wallet is a bad idea."

"...Hahaha, I guess they did, huh?" Yamamoto tucked it between his teeth and tore it open. "Good thing you can't knock me up, then!" Gokudera fumbled over an argument against his logic but the feeling of his fingers rolling the condom over his erection were more than a little distracting, especially with the way he teased all the way down. Stray fingers traced the way back up from the base to the head as Yamamoto righted himself. "Besides, it's lubricated."

Any other argument he might have had was thwarted when Yamamoto's lips met his again, and Gokudera finally just gave up. Yamamoto already had this in his head—from the looks and sound of it, probably had for some time now—and wasn't going to take any kind of a "no" for an answer, especially as reluctant and half-hearted a "no" as Gokudera would've given.

Yamamoto put his knees to either side of Gokudera's thighs, arching his back a little so their chests pressed close and Gokudera had to crane his neck to keep kissing him. A hand that seemed to have only just lost its nerve reached under and behind him before Gokudera stepped in, swatting the boy's hand away to center his erection below him himself. "Slowly," Gokudera mumbled, lips still occupied. "And relax and don't feel like you have to do this."

"I don't," Yamamoto murmured back and Gokudera could feel the smile that tugged at his lips. He rested his free hand against the side of Yamamoto's neck while the other held steady, waiting for the boy to make his move, if not for long.

Yamamoto was more cautious than Gokudera expected him to be, edging downward at a painstakingly slow pace. His muscles held sure though, and didn't tremble even a little as he took one inch, then two...right until the end when the boy somehow took it to the hilt and sat there facing Gokudera and wearing a smirk. Like the cat that caught the bird. Gokudera both loved and hated that look.

It took Yamamoto a few moments before he found the right way to hold himself to start moving, and in that time, Gokudera relieved him of his shirt. Once he began, though, Gokudera could do little but try his damnedest to hold them both upright. Yamamoto got his bearing quickly, following instincts to compensate for balance throwing too far this way or that and for the way Gokudera was already trembling. For his part, Gokudera was just glad to have practice on his side, else the boy outlast him.

Soon enough, the smirk faded from Yamamoto's face, replaced with closed eyes and a half-open mouth that let out infrequent moans around the constant panting. Gokudera swallowed hard, but took up the grin that had left the boy's face once he saw the look that had overtaken it. He already missed him. Both of them. Just a little.

"Takeshi," he breathed, surprised by the way the boy, for the first time, looked a little embarrassed, his brow furrowing. Then he remembered that the boy had never heard his name called by his voice, especially not so gently. Yamamoto hooked his arms around Gokudera's neck more securely and sped up.

Never had a room they shared been so quiet, not even years later. The only sound was their erratic breathing, never in tandem and never even. The trembling they suppressed released itself from their lungs, whimpering softly.

Yamamoto's fingers reached up, threading into Gokudera's hair for purchase, tugging gently. Just like always. Gokudera was about to try to reassure the boy it wasn't a contest of endurance, when he came onto his chest, tugging his hair just a little harder. Gokudera tilted his head back with the jerking of his hair, and once Yamamoto stopped trembling from his orgasm, he nestled his head in the space there, resting it on Gokudera's shoulder.

Through the haze, Gokudera helped Yamamoto off of his lap, laid him down on the bed, slipped his boxers back on. The boy was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Gokudera tossed the condom into the bin, used his shirt to clean off his chest and stomach, and pulled on his own briefs before sitting on the bed beside Yamamoto. He ran fingers through the boy's hair, down his face and neck, shoulder, arm, finally closing it around his hand. "Don't forget what I told you," he whispered, but there was no reply. "Your father's life depends on it."

Fuck the space-time continuum. Gokudera would fix their broken future, no matter the cost.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on khrkinkmeme at LiveJournal.com. Lightly edited for formatting, grammar, and/or clarity.


End file.
